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Lancer

A few years back, I bought a brand new GReddy Ti-C cat back exhaust for my Mitsubishi Lancer. The day it arrived, I was under the car, removing the sway bar, removing rusty bolts, getting rid of the raspy factory exhaust. And then, when I got it all lined up and bolted back together, I went to reinstall the Progress sway bar, and it wouldn’t fit! This was the first time I ever modified a car to such a level (it was a base model and didn’t have a sway bar from the factory) that parts were discovered to be non-compatible with one another. I drove it without the bar for six months or so, loving the exhaust note and the new lack of hesitation in the upper rev range, but hating the loss of cornering ability. This was when I first heard on Evom about S&R Performance, a shop in Tampa, FL. (more…)

A week prior to the Honda Grand Prix of St. Pete, I stumbled upon a post in the Tampa thread on evolutionm.net (a Mitsubishi Lancer and Lancer Evolution enthusiast site that I frequent) about a local meet just around the corner from my house. I’d never seen a meet happen so close to home before (literally, right outside my neighborhood), not to mention that there would be an Evo VII there, so I knew I had to check it out. These were some of the first pictures I took with the new Nikon D90. I didn’t realize that they’d also be the last I’d take of my Lancer, Lucky Thunder, before it would be sold just three weeks later.(more…)

It’s been a long road, and at long last it’s come time to sell my Lancer. It’s reached what you’d call it’s full and final stage of tune for what I wanted to do with it. I held it off for another few months to enjoy it for a little while longer, and now I’m ready to sell. I’ve got to pay some bills and I also made a new year’s resolution in an Answer of the Day on Jalopnik.com, to sell the car and use part of it to buy a camera. The camera has been bought, now it’s time to do the other part.

Project cars start out as something fun to spend your time on. They grow on you slowly, until the thought of getting rid of it (assuming you don’t have so many that you don’t care) makes you weep, like the thought of saying goodbye to a loyal friend. Well, I got to that point this past week. I had the timing belt changed, the AC was working again, the brakes were bled. The only thing left was to change the engine mounts back to stock. That’s when my father in law borrowed it to get from our house, back to his (coming from the airport, long story). Saturday, we went to visit the family and afterward I end up driving my old Lancer back home. About ten minutes into a thirty minute drive home, I got tired of laying on the brakes because of overly nervous traffic, and start driving the hell out of it like I did back in the good old days of running nearly late for class, in college. I got home and I was nearly tearing up because it just didn’t seem right to be planning a trip soon, when I was selling my car “to save money.” It was like dancing on my car’s grave. I put my foot down, my old friend would stay.

I turned 30 today. I did as little as possible. Outside of videogames, it was pretty unproductive. All in all, a good, quiet day. I finally got the Lancer fixed (mostly), just the motor mounts left to revert back to stock. I was so lazy today, I didn’t even bother to turn my own wrench. I paid someone else to do it all, lol. I’ll discuss this Lancer more in the coming weeks. It’s gone through quite a transformation from geek (rental car) to chic (corner carver). I’m sadly having to sell her. She’s been a reliable car, but I think it’s time for her to go on to another owner who can drive the snot out of her. My wife and I work in the same building and commute together, in the newer VW. The Lancer just sits, waiting to be hooned. I’m going to try to find the best person for this car. I’d rather see some kid drive the hell out of it and end up wrapping it around a tree (and surviving unharmed of course) than to have the car sit and rot away to nothing in a garage or a car park. Cars are meant to be driven, not to be stored.